rludlum-shelby.thecassandracompact-第44章

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　〃I　agree　that　Nichols　gave　up　the　number；　sir。　And　the　rendezvous　point；　too。　Otherwise　your　caller　would　have　asked　you　to　identify　safe　point　Alpha。　But　I　don't　think　it　was　Howell。〃
　〃Why？〃
　〃Howell　lives　in　this　country；　sir。　Although　he's　retired；　we've　long　suspected　that　he's　still　available　for　certain　operations；　and　it　came　out　that　he　and　Smith　worked　together　during　Hades。　I　think　Howell　would　go　active　if　Smith　asked　him　to；　but　he　would　do　so　only　outside　the　country。　That's　why　he；　not　Smith；　was　in　Palermo。　I　think　Smith　made　that　call；　General。〃
　Richardson　nodded。　〃So　do　I。〃
　〃Smith。。。〃　Price　muttered。　〃It　all　es　back　to　him。　First　he's　in　Moscow；　then　Beria　disappears。　Now　he's　here。　Frank；　you've　got　to　take　care　of　him　once　and　for　all。〃
　〃Yes；〃　Richardson　agreed。　〃Which　is　why　I　instructed　him　to　go　to　safe　point　Alpha。〃　He　looked　at　Drake。　〃Where　you'll　be　waiting。〃
　
　Wearing　hightops；　black　pants　and　a　turtleneck；　and　a　dark　nylon　jacket；　Jon　Smith　slipped　out　of　his　house　and　into　his　car。　Driving　out　of　Bethesda；　he　continually　checked　his　mirrors。　No　vehicle　fell　in　behind　hirn　on　the　quiet　suburban　streets。　No　tail　picked　him　up　on　the　beltway。
　Smith　crossed　the　Potomac　and　entered　Fairfax　County；　Virginia。　At　this　time　of　night　traffic　was　light；　and　he　drove　quickly　through　the　horse　country　around　Vienna；　Fairfax；　and　Falls　Church。　South　of　Alexandria　he　found　the　river　again　and　followed　it　almost　to　the　border　of　Prince　William　County。　Here　the　affluent　landscape　gave　way　to　stretches　of　waterfront　bordered　by　thick　forest。　As　he　approached　the　county　line；　Smith　saw　safe　point　Alpha。
　The　Virginia　Water　and　Power　pumping　station　had　been　built　in　the　1930s；　when　coal　was　cheap　and　health　issues　nonexistent。　The　advent　of　newer；　cleaner　units；　coupled　with　the　outcries　from　environmentalists；　were　enough　to　close　the　plant　in　the　early　1990s。　Since　then；　all　attempts　to　modernize　the　station　had　floundered　on　the　rocks　of　budgetary　considerations。　So　it　continued　to　stand　on　the　Potomac；　a　dark；　hulking　structure　looking　like　some　abandoned　factory。
　Smith　turned　off　the　two…lane　blacktop　and；　cutting　his　headlights；　cruised　up　the　access　road。　He　parked　under　a　copse　of　trees　a　quarter　mile　away　and；　setting　his　backpack　on　his　shoulders；　jogged　the　rest　of　the　way。
　The　first　thing　he　noticed　as　he　got　close　was　the　Cyclone　fence…　still　shiny；　topped　with　glistening　razor　wire。　A　fat　padlock；　showing　no　rust；　secured　the　heavy　chain　around　the　front　gates。　The　perimeter　was　well　lighted；　the　halogen　lamps　giving　a　winterlike　glow　to　the　deserted　parking　lot　in　front　of　the　plant。
　Being　used　but　not　in　use。。。
　Smith　had　e　across　buildings　like　this　before。　The　army　preferred　the　neglected；　the　abandoned；　and　the　derelict；　where　it　could　give　its　special　squads　the　kind　of　training　impossible　to　duplicate　on　military　reservations。　The　Virginia　Water　and　Power　plant　had　that　peculiar　feel　about　it。。。　used　but　not　in　use。
　Perfect　for　safe　point　Alpha。
　Smith　circled　almost　the　entire　perimeter　before　he　found　a　suitable　entry　point；　where　the　fence　met　the　river's　edge。　Climbing　over　slippery　rocks；　he　made　his　way　around　the　fence；　then　sprinted　across　a　section　of　the　deserted　parking　lot　to　the　nearest　wall。　After　pausing　to　get　his　bearings　he　scanned　the　perimeter。　He　saw　nothing；　heard　nothing　except　for　the　faint　calls　of　night　creatures　near　the　water。　Yet　his　intuition　warned　him　that　he　was　not　alone。　His　call　had　sent　a　shiver　along　the　web。　He　just　couldn't　see　the　spider　。。。。　Yet。
　Hugging　the　side　of　the　building；　Smith　moved　along　the　face　of　the　wall；　searching　for　an　entry　point。
　
　Three　stories　above　Smith；　in　the　shadows　of　a　broken　window；　Sergeant　Patrick　Drake　watched　Smith　through　night…vision　binoculars。　He'd　picked　him　up　as　soon　as　Smith　had　climbed　around　the　fence；　the　logical　entry　point。　According　to　the　contents　of　the　dossier　Drake　had　read；　Smith　was　nothing　if　not　logical。　It　was　an　admirable　quality　in　a　soldier；　but　one　that　made　him　predictable。　And　in　this　case；　fatally　vulnerable。
　Drake　had　been　flown　to　the　plant　by　helicopter。　Later　on；　a　car　would　be　waiting　for　him　when　he　finished　his　work。　Getting　here　so　quickly　had　allowed　him　to　familiarize　himself　with　the　plant's　layout；　choose　the　killing　ground；　and　find　a　vantage　point　from　which　to　observe　Smith's　entry。
　There　he　was；　at　the　door　Drake　had　hoped　he　would　find；　testing　it。。。　opening　it。
　Drake　turned　away　from　the　window　and　crossed　the　barren　room　that　had　once　housed　pumping　machinery。　His　crepe…soled　shoes　moved　soundlessly　along　the　dusty　concrete　floor。
　Slipping　into　the　stairwell；　he　drew　out　his　silenced　Colt　Woodsman。　The　。22　was　an　assassin's　weapon；　meant　for　close…range　work。　Drake　wanted　to　see　Smith's　face　before　he　shot　him。　Maybe　the　terror　in　his　expression　would　help　ease　some　of　the　pain　Drake　carried　on　account　of　the　loss　of　his　partner。
　Or　maybe　I'll　gut…shoot　him　first；　so　that　he　can　feel　what　Travis　went　through。
　Two　floors　down；　Drake　paused　in　a　landing　and　carefully　pulled　back　a　door　that　opened　on　a　second　pump　room。　The　moonlight　ing　through　the　tall　windows　bathed　the　pitted　concrete　floor　in　what　could　have　been　a　layer　of　ice。　Moving　swiftly　from　pillar　to　pillar；　Drake　positioned　himself　so　that　he　had　a　clear　view　of　another　door；　still　closed。　Given　where　Smith　had　entered；　this　was　the　only　entry　point　into　the　room。　Like　any　good　soldier；　Smith　would　check　every　space　he　encountered；　making　sure　that　it　was　secure；　that　no　one　would　surprise　him　when　his　back　was　turned。　But　in　this　case；　not　even　the　logical　precautions　would　save　him。
　Somewhere　outside　the　pump　room　Drake　heard　a　footfall。　Slipping　off　the　safety　on　the　Woodsman；　he　trained　the　barrel　on　the　door　and　waited。
　
　Smith　stared　at　the　door；　its　metal　sheath　streaked　with　old　red　paint　stains。　Safe　point　Alpha。　Where　Travis　Nichols　would　have　gone　to　report　in。　Where　the　owner　of　the　horribly　mangled　voice　would　be　waiting。
　He　wouldn't　have　e　alone；　Smith　thought。　He'd　have　brought　backup。　But　how　many？
　Smith　shrugged　the　backpack　off　his　shoulders。　Digging　inside；　he　brought　out　a　small；　round　object　the　size　of　an　India　rubber　ball。　Then　he　drew　out　his　SIG…Sauer　and　pushed　open　the　door　with　the　tip　of　his　hightop。
　The　blanket　of　moonlight　destroyed　his　night　vision；　making　him　blink。　At　the　same　time　he　took　one　step　across　the　threshold。　Suddenly　something　very　hard　slammed　into　his　chest。　The　backpack　fell　from　his　grip　as　he　staggered　back。　A　second　blow　sent　him　spinning　against　the　wall。
　Smith　felt　as　though　his　chest　were　on　fire。　Gasping；　he　tried　to　remain　standing　but　his　knees　buckled。　As　he　slid　down　the　wall；　he　saw　a　shadow　emerge　from　behind　a　pillar。
　His　thumb　flicked　the　pin　on　the　stun　grenade　in　his　hand。　With　a　weak　toss　he　threw　it　across　the　room　and　quickly　covered　his　eyes　a　and　ears。
　
　Drake　advanced　on　Smith　with　the　confidence　of　a　hunter　who　knows　he's　scored　a　direct　hit…　two；　in　fact。　Both　the　bullets　had　hit　Smith　center　mass。　If　the　colonel　wasn't　already　dead；　he　soon　would　be。
　Drake　was　relishing　that　thought　when　he　saw　a　black　sphere　arc　toward　him。　His　instincts　and　reactions　were　superb；　but　he　couldn't　cover　his　eyes　in　time。　The　stun　grenade　exploded　like　a　supernova；　blinding　him。　The　shock　wave　hammered　him　to　the　ground。
　Drake　was　young　and　very　fit。　During　live　fire　training　and　on　actual　missions　he　had　taken　his　share　of　explosions。　As　soon　as　he　hit　the　ground　he　covered　his　head　in　case　of　shrapnel。　He　did　not　panic　when；　opening　his　eyes；　he　saw　nothing　but　white。　The　flash　would　wear　off　in　a　few　seconds。　He　still　had　his　gun　in　his　hand。　He　knew　that　he'd　hit　Smith　and　that　he　was　down。　All　he　had　to　do　was　wait　for　his　sight　to　return。
　Then　Drake　heard　the　distant　wail　of　sirens。　Cursing；　he　staggered　to　his　feet。　Although　the　room　was　still　a　blur　he　made　it　to　the　windows。　His　vision　cleared　enough　for　him　to　make　out　two　red　dots　flickering　between　the　trees　bordering　the　access　road。
　〃Goddamnit！〃　he　roared　as　he　heard　the　sirens。　Smith　had　brought　his　own　backup！　Who　were　they？　How　many？
　His　vision　almost　normal；　Drake　rushed　to　where　he'd　seen　Smith　fall。
　But　he　wasn't　there！
　The　sirens　were　getting　louder。　Cursing；　Drake　snatched　up　the　backpack　and　headed　into　the　stairwell。　He　made　it　outside　just　in　time　to　see　two　sedans　pull　up　in　front　of　the　gates。
　Let　'em　e；　he　thought。　All　they're　going　to　find　is　a　body！
　
　Staring　at　the　loose　wires　dangling　from　the　panel；　Megan　Olson　struggled　to　fend　off　her　despair。　She　had　lost　track　of　all　the　binations　she　had　tried；　running　different　wires　to　different　terminals。　So　far；　nothing　had　worked。　The　shuttle's　air…lock　door　remained　firmly　sealed。
　Her　only　consolation　was　that　she　thought　she'd　fixed　her　mike。　But　she　didn't　want　to　test　it　just　yet。
　Calm　down；　she　told　herself。　There's　a　way　out　of　here。　All　you　have　to　do　is　find　it。
　It　was　maddening　that　less　than　a　foot　away；　on　the　other　side　of　the　door；　was　the　emergency…release　lever。　All　Dylan　Reed　had　had　to　do　was　pull　it。
　Instead　he's　going　to　let　you　die。　Like　all　the　others。。。
　No　matter　how　hard　she　tried；　Megan　could　not　distance　herself　from　the　horror　of　Reed's　actions。　For　the　last　several　hours　she　had　listened　in　on　his　terse；　intermittent　conversations　with　Harry　Landon　at　mission　control。　In　one　of　them；　he　had　given　a　graphic　description　of　the　bodies。
　But　how　did　he　get　a　sample？
　From　Treloar！　Klein　had　told　her　about　the　theft　from　Bioaparat　and　how　Treloar　had　helped　smuggle　the　Russian　smallpox　sample　into　the　country。　But　how　had　Treloar　gotten　the　virus　to　the　launch　site？　He　was　killed　soon　after　landing　in　Washington。
　That's　when　she　remembered　the　morning　of　the　liftoff；　being　unable　to　sleep；　taking　a　walk　in　the　darkness；　seeing　the　launch　pad　in　the　distance；　seeing　Reed。。。　Then　the　anonymous　visitor；　approaching　him；　handing　him　something；　and　leaving。　Could　it　have　been　a　last…minute　transfer？　It　had　to　be。
　If　what　Reed　had　received　was　in　fact　smallpox；　Megan　thought；　then　it　would　have　remained　stable　until　the　shuttle　was　in　orbit　and　Reed　could　store　it　in　the　biofreezer。
　The　Spacelab！　Suddenly　she　remembered　the　message　that　had　e　in　to　the　flight　deck。　Minutes　later；　Reed　had　changed　the　experiments'　schedule；　bumping　her　and　taking　the　first　slot　for　himself。　He　had　explained　it　away　so　smoothly　that　no　one；　not　even　she；　had　questioned　him。
　Not　even　when　you　had　seen　the　NASA　log　number　for　that　message。　Reed's　number。　And　you　asked　yourself　how　he　could　possibly　have　sent　that　message　to　himself。。。
　Megan　shook　her　head。　The　questions　had　been　there；　but　she　had　ignored　them。　Instead；　she　had　accepted　the　events　as　coincidence；　had　chosen　to　believe　in　the　integrity　of　the　man　who　had　brought　her　to　the　stars。
　The　question　of　why　Reed　would　be　party　to　such　a　barbaric　act　plagued　her。　Even　after　she'd　gone　over　everything　she　knew　about　him；　no　answer　was　forthing。　There　was　something　in　him；　about　him；　that　she　hadn't　seen。　No　one　had。
　Earlier；　Megan　had　clu